I Cried for You
by Hestia01
Summary: following in my Q Cycle timeline (The Q and I, etc), Admiral Janeway faces the consequences of choosing immortality.


I Cried for You

**Author's Note: I told you "Stuck in the Middle with Q" was the final chapter of the Q Cycle. I lied. This needed to be shown. Special thanks to Dawn for convincing me to post it, and for fixing where it needed it.**

2425, Admiral Janeway and Chakotay's living quarters from Starfleet Command.

Kathryn doesn't need her inherent infallibility to know that her husband's health isn't good. Nor has it been good for several weeks. Every day he maintained that he was "fine", as though she couldn't see him cringe from some inward pain that couldn't be seen. He refused to go to the hospital or have any doctor see him, insisting that it was nothing. The whole time they've been together, he's never objected to her "showing off" her Q-based eternal youth. He's even been tolerant of any "funny stuff" as long as it wasn't too flashy. It had taken Chakotay a surprisingly short amount of time to adapt to being married to a part-time Q. Now, a stubborn nonagenarian, he lies in bed, knowing he doesn't have much longer.

"Kath-Kathryn..."

She rolls over, instantly awake, "I'm up. What do you need?"

"Lights..."

His voice betrays the seriousness of the situation. She orders the lights on and turns his head to face her. Chakotay gazes at her, the picture of the woman he married all those years ago, except...she knows, she's already weeping for him, and as each tear falls, a streak of gray slides through her hair. He reaches out to touch her face, they both know that this is goodbye, and there's no way to say all he wants to before he goes. He summons his strength and takes a breath. "Kathryn...don't...Promise you won't..."

"Won't what?" 

"I'm not like you, Kathryn, I couldn't live like..." He stops short, afraid that he continues she'll refuse. "I don't want to be saved at the last second, Kathryn. Don't."

Her tears are falling so thickly there's barely any auburn left in her hair. Clapping a hand to her mouth, she understands what he's asking her. He knows she could use her powers, her unpublicized Q-ness, to stop him from dying, to make him well, to do anything she likes...but it's not what he wants.

"Chakotay, asking me to let you die, to stand idly by and...let it happen? You found your peace, but what of mine? What peace can I have, with your blood on my hands?"

Here, Chakotay smiles, brushes his wife's cheek. "There's no blood on your hands, Kathryn. I'm not asking you to kill me. Just...uphold the Prime Directive for once, will you? No interference. That's all I ask."

"I could've helped you," survivor's guilt is already wracking her conscience.

"I never asked you to. It's time, Kathryn, I know it's time. My grandfathers call me from this world. I have to go. It's all right to grieve..just don't forget to live. You have others, you're not alone."

Outside their apartment, late-night workers just getting home look up in the sky, amazed at the shower of falling stars that's unexpectedly begun. It's visible even beyond Earth, dazzling the dwellers of the Alpha Quadrant. Only a select few who witness it suspect the cause. Those who served under Captain Janeway see stars falling and know their former captain mourns.

Silently, numbly, she hits the medic call button. Sits quietly in the corner, a broken old woman, as the examiners determine the time and cause of death. "He's 96!" she wanted to tell them, the macabre sense of humor nearly makes her laugh hysterically at the thought. As soon as they're gone, she vanishes, reappearing on a small semi-stationary meteor, watching the night sky cry with her. How fitting, when it seems that all of the light in her world had suddenly gone out. For the first time in nearly fifty years she doubts her decision to join herself to Q, to be like him. At the time, it all seemed entertaining as well as intriguing to her scientific mind, the idea that she could explore all the farthest reaches of space, interact with thousands of cultures, limitless possibilities...now it all seems like the most standard pickup technique targeted at the greenest of cadets.

"Now, now, my dear, that's hardly fair."

"Q..." she breathes. For the moment, she both hates him and is grateful for his company.

He seems to sense his mixed welcome with a smirk. "Well, I'm glad not much has changed, Kathy, but what has you hardened against me? Now of all times?"

"You know very well," she murmurs softly, dangerously. Slowly she turns her gaze up towards her omnipotent husband, and her anger melts away like frost in the midday sun. "Oh, Q...How long have I been out here?"

"By human time? Almost a week. They've held off the memorial service until you're fit to return."

She nods, now angry with herself for making people wait to say goodbye. Bringing her hands up through her hair, she admits, "I don't hate you."

"I don't think you ever did."

The certainty in his voice brings a smile to her face. She remembers their first battles of wit and will, their strange courtship, everything, and he's right: as frustrated and annoyed with him as she's ever been, she's never hated Q. He kneels down and helps her to her feet, holding her close to his body in order to steady her. "It's time to go back," he whispers. They vanish together


End file.
